


so let us not be lonesome

by perfchan



Series: fly fast, kiss sweet, break fashion rules intergalactically [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Keith is the smooth one, Light Angst, M/M, Mostly Fluff, POV Lance (Voltron), Post Season 6, and your crush, canonverse, graphic hand holding, let lance have love 2k18, sometimes you need to cry it out, with a cosmic wolf buddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 09:32:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14997956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfchan/pseuds/perfchan
Summary: Lance has been through it. Plenty. All that stuff with Lotor and Shiro and then the castle---holy crow, at least it’s over. And, technically, he should be happy because they’re finally going home, but. Emotions are tough.As the team begins one hell of an intergalactic road trip, they get pulled into a tourist trap. And Lance isn’t exactly feeling it….but he finds an unexpected companion with whom to cry it out.





	so let us not be lonesome

***

 

Two varga ago, they---a strange caravan of the five lions of Voltron and a couple of mismatched Altean pods---passed a giant space billboard displaying a picture of a group of alien children. The advertisement showed their faces illuminated with a warm glow, looking heavenward in awe and delight.  

 

“Is that?!” Allura breathed into the comms, slowing down. 

 

“ _ A world wonder,” _ claimed a second billboard,  _ “the largest, naturally-occurring risonium deposit in three galaxies.”  _

 

_ “Cleanest bathrooms on I-70,” _ boasted another. 

 

“We simply must stop.” the princess declared, already setting a course for the planet.

 

“I could use some wonder,” Shiro mused. 

 

“And a bathroom,” Pidge agreed. 

 

And so. That’s how they ended up here. Apparently Allura’s family stopped at this place once when she was a little girl. When this part of the Talwar system  _ conveniently  _ overlapped with their journey home, she couldn’t resist experiencing the  _ naturally-occuring wonder _ of Ruby Falls with the team. 

 

The tour guide sounded bored, and the light show was cheesy, and the gift shop was overpriced---but even so---the natural beauty of the planet is nothing short of majestic. 

 

The falls are amazing. A liquid element that does not exist on Earth, but that shines a ruby red, gushing out of the planet’s rocks and pooling upwards in the the sky, like a reverse waterfall. At the height of the falls it shimmers overhead, blanketing the deep indent of land in a fire-y, almost incandescent, cloud. 

 

Basically, an amazing and breathtaking and once-in-a-lifetime kinda thing, yadda yadda yadda. So why does Lance feel so...cruddy? Like a big ol’ glob of space goo is stuck in his throat. Like a giant-ass robeast has his heart in a chokehold. He has to get out of here. 

 

Lance mimes kicking up an imaginary skateboard as he makes his exit. It’s random and therefore funny, he knows it is, but no one is watching so no one laughs. “Wee--ll guys, as great as this is,” he gives the gaggle of aliens and his team a casual salute that effortlessly morphs into a finger-gun, “Lance out.” 

 

“See ya later, Lance!” Hunk calls after him, absent-minded. He’s not really paying attention, but instead studying a guidebook of the planet’s history. Shiro raises a hand in good-bye without taking his eyes off the inscrutable diagram Coran is attempting to explain. 

 

An intergalactic road-trip. In the best RV (read: the one and only Voltron, legendary defender of the universe, ultimate badass weapon and bringer of peace) in all of space and time. And at the end of their journey: that perfect blue dot. Earth. Home. Should be amazing, right? 

 

Lance sighs, narrowly managing to side-step a couple of kids and their parents on the walkway down to the main attraction. 

 

The father of the bunch crumples up an already wrinkly map in exasperation. His wife rolls her eyes (all three of them). 

 

“Do you know which way the falls are?” she asks. 

 

“Uh.” Lance pulls himself out of his thoughts. He throws a hand towards the path behind him. “Take this until it forks and then you’ll see a sign on your left. Bout a,” Lance wrinkles his nose, “five dobosh walk? You’re almost there.” 

 

“On the left?” She gives her husband a pointed look, that, alien or not, clearly translates to, _ told you so _ , “Thank you.” 

 

“No prob.” Lance replies easily, giving them a backwards wave as he trots further away from the main path. 

 

Hands shoved in his pockets, he makes his way up past an outcropping of tables to a secluded look out spot. From here he can’t quite hear the kids on the playground or the bustle of the picnic area. He’s above all that. From here he can see far, far down, all the way into the cave-like valleys that spot the planet’s surface. 

 

It’s just…he doesn’t feel like he fits in. Coran is like a father to Allura. And Allura is regal and beautiful and amazing---he can’t help but idolize her. Pidge and Hunk have each other. They include Lance when they can, but half the time he doesn’t even know what they’re talking about. It’s not their fault. He just. Doesn’t get it. Shiro and Keith are tight knit; they always have been. Everyone has their own groups and it just seems like….there’s no room for him. It’s his team, but, he feels out of place. 

 

Allura said this journey would take about fifty-six quintants. That’s just shy of two months until he sees his family again. And that should make him nothing but happy---but it doesn’t. He’s scared he’ll be out of place there too. 

 

Lance is scared because he’s  _ not _ homesick. Not in the way that he was. Humans are made to adapt, it’s in their blood and genes, they can survive terrible things and come out on top. It’s a trait that they all have and it terrifies him. By now, they’ve been in space so long. Whole weeks have gone by where he didn’t think of home, didn’t recall Earth. It’s made him forget:

 

The way the beach towel whips in the tell-tale wind as he gathers his stuff off the sand, shouting at his older siblings to come back from the surf---it looks like rain. The tone of his mother’s voice as she needles him about being on his phone at the dinner table. The number of scoops his father counts to make the perfect cup of coffee in the morning---strong, but never bitter. He’s forgotten, just the smallest details, but he feels like he’s lost himself, become someone else and it’s wrong, it feels wrong. 

 

He sniffles. The ground of the look-out spot isn’t all that comfortable. He thinks bitterly for a moment that if he was going to have a full fledged meltdown, he should have at least gone back to his lion. 

 

A shadow falls over his lap. It startles him out of his thoughts. Lance looks up….and is met with a mouthful of fangs. 

 

“Uh,” he lifts his hands in what he hopes is a non-threatening way, “Nice d-doggy!!” 

 

Its lips curl back in what could be a silent snarl, baring teeth. The animal is huge. 

 

“N-nice wolf-y, I mean, of course, not a dog, uh,” Lance attempts to put a little bit of space between him and Keith’s cosmic time-void space wolf-beast thing. (An animal who, like Keith, has never seemed to tolerate him all that well.) He shuffles back on his hands, the heels of his high tops just barely sinking into the soft dirt of the outcropping. 

 

She follows him, taking a step forward for every bit that he scoots back. The wolf’s head is hung low, sharp gaze following his movements minutely. And then Lance runs out of area to scoot. His back is pressed up against a large, large tree. There’s no escape. Whelp. This is it. This is the end. Thanks for tuning in, everybody. It’s been real. 

 

“Please don’t eat me,” he squeaks, hands up in surrender, eyes squeezed shut. 

 

But rather than feel the business end of those fangs, a warm and heavy weight settles in his lap. 

 

“Huh?” Lance opens his eyes. 

 

The animal is huge, way too big to actually fit in his lap, but she makes a valiant effort. Her big head rests snugly in Lance’s lap, and the rest of her settles content at his side. She looks up at him with large, almost doleful eyes. When he lifts a hand and tentatively runs it along the edge of one silky ear, her tail starts to wag. 

 

Lance’s mouth wobbles dangerously. 

 

“You’re a good girl,” he says, voice thick. He’s not going to cry. 

 

He scratches behind her ears. Her tail wags more forcefully. She nuzzles under his arm, close to his chest. 

 

“Good gi--” Lance’s breath hitches. He wraps his arms around her, ‘til she’s got her muzzle resting on his shoulder. Shuddering out a sob into her soft fur, the first traitorous tear finally falls. He hugs her fiercely. And then he’s ugly crying---fat, globby tears, rolling down his face, turning it all splotchy and snotty and awful. _ I don’t know how I even contribute to this team, and my fa-family, I miss them but, going home, I don’t know what that’s even gonna be like now, and-- _

 

“Lance.” 

 

Lance snaps his head back so quickly that, combined with the sudden tears, he’s sure to have a headache soon. He clears his throat with a cough that’s more like a hack and resolutely avoids eye contact with Keith. 

 

“Hey Keith.” His voice sounds soggy. He lifts the collar of his tee shirt and wipes his nose on the inside. Gross. 

 

Keith looks stupid. He’s wearing some sort of soft looking track pants, ones that cling to his hips and thighs but seem really, unfairly comfortable. The side of one of the legs has a weird cartoon and the planet’s name emblazoned on it. Along with the strange graphic, the pants also have buttons down the sides of the legs and Keith, stupidly, has them unbuttoned around his pale, bony ankles, revealing horrible flip-flops. Lance frowns at them, the ruby red thongs of the sandals are just as garish as anything they’ve seen in the entire universe. And by now they’ve seen a lot. 

 

Keith shifts his weight and the flaps of the pants flap open a bit, which is just, ugh, but not as bad as  _ the tee shirt he’s wearing _ ,  _ holy crow _ , because it  _ must _ be  _ at least _ two sizes too small, the way the tacky ‘Ruby Falls: Talwar’s Natural Gem’ logo is stretched across his chest. And the swell of his biceps completely fills out the short sleeves and his collarbones are visible and---

 

“Lance!” 

 

“I was listening!” Lance defends immediately. The dog (wolf?) in his lap tilts her head back as if to get a better look at his lying face. 

 

“You weren’t.” Keith says, but he doesn’t seem mad. He’s looking down at Lance in front of him, and from this angle---it must be the angle---he looks almost fond. There’s a softness in his eyes that isn’t usually there. “I said, we’re not going to leave until sunrise, so the plan was to hike into the main cavern. Supposedly there’s some kind of restaurant down there. Allura and Coran remember it being really good, so.” He shrugs. “Might be a mistake, but.” 

 

“I’ll pass.” Lance sniffles a little. “I don’t think this rest stop is really my thing. The risonium made my hair frizzy.” 

 

“Is that why you’re crying?” 

 

Lance presses his lips together, gaze on Keith’s awful flip-flops. It’s bad enough, letting Keith see him cry at all. He doesn’t want to give him a play-by-play on all his shortcomings---

 

“That came out ruder than I meant. Sorry.”  

 

Without any further explanation, Keith settles down across from Lance on the ground. Lance watches, almost incredulous, as Keith spreads a hand out in front of him, palm side up, an awkward gesture of peace. “Maybe I could help?” 

 

Keith has barely talked to him since he got back. There was the explanation of Lotor’s all around mega cruddy-ness and then the battle with Lotor, and obviously that was really intense. And, of course, the stuff with Shiro, which was really hard for everybody, but a million times more so for Keith. And, his mom, and the whole two years time-paradox thing, and catching up with the Blades, and. Well. Trading dumb jokes with Lance is just not a priority. 

 

Lance can’t blame him. 

 

It doesn’t make it any less sucky though. 

 

There’s no way Lance can say, ‘Hey I know I was kinda always a dick to you and made up a fake rivalry to compensate for my insecurities and pushed you away at every turn, but I actually really admire you and when you left I realized you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had and I felt really, really lost in this huge galaxy without you by my side.’ 

 

Right? He can’t just like, say that. 

 

He can’t just look at Keith---Keith who has been through hell, Keith who has finally found his family, Keith who has struggled so much and deserves  _ everything _ \---he can’t just look at Keith and explain: ‘Hey man, I’m emo because I wish I had done things differently and I wish I was  _ better _ and I wish we had the kind of relationship where I could just  _ tell you  _ how much I  _ missed you _ and how important you are to me.’

 

He just can’t. So instead he smooths down the patch of wet fur on the wolf’s neck. Her tail wags again and she closes her eyes appreciatively. He sucks the snot back into his nose and rubs at his wet cheeks with the back of his hand. Instead he asks, voice still a little warbly, “What’s her name?” 

 

“Kraft.” Keith responds. He’s settled back on his hands, legs splayed out in front of him. He jiggles his feet back and forth a little and one of them knocks Lance’s elbow. It’s a very un-Keith like position. His lips smile around the name when he says it, like it’s a secret he’s been waiting to share. 

 

At the sound of her name, Kraft’s ears perk up and she shifts over Lance’s lap, sniffing alongside Keith’s sandals, nosing up into his pant legs. 

 

“I wasn’t calling you, silly,” Keith nudges her gently. “Go on, go back to Lance.” 

 

Lance watches, bemused, as instead, Kraft flops down on her back and looks up at Keith in expectation. “Craft, like, crafty, because she’s a wolf?” he asks. 

 

Keith succumbs quickly and leans forward to start giving Kraft an enthusiastic tummy rub. “No. Kraft, like Kraft macaroni and cheese.” 

 

Lance raises his eyebrows but Keith volunteers more information before he can comment: 

 

“We found her when she was just a puppy. I wanted to name her something me and Mom had in common. Something we both like.” He smiles, fingers still scritching, “Turns out my dad’s cooking wasn’t exactly fancy.”   

 

That’s...probably the most personal thing Keith has ever shared about his life. Lance can’t remember a time when Keith just...talked to him. Lance swallows. “Kraft,” 

 

Keith has changed a lot.  

 

It’s only made Lance like him more. 

 

“Kraft is a really good listener.” 

 

Keith nods. “She is.” 

 

Lance’s eyes are still watery. He ducks his head, avoiding Keith’s absurdly soft gaze in favor of the knees of his beat-to-death Levi’s. “Also a good crying buddy.” 

 

Keith’s tone is gentle. “She is.” 

 

The temptation to move physically closer to Keith is almost too much to bear. Lance settles for asking him another question, in hopes that Keith will continue this strange, new trend of being open. He clears his throat. “So, is mac and cheese pretty much your favorite food then?” 

 

Keith’s fingers slow in Kraft’s fur, thoughtful. He purses his lips, frowns, before deciding. “No. I’m more of a hamburger guy.” 

 

“Really?” Lance leans forward, surprised. “What’s the first place you’re going to get a burger when we get back?” 

 

“In-N-Out,” Keith replies, with an almost visceral groan. 

 

Lance grins. By now they’re sitting close together, Keith relaxed on one elbow while Lance moves to a crossed legged position. “I’ve never had In-N-Out.” Lance confesses. 

 

Keith makes a noise like this is an affront to his very being. He starts talking, the light rasp of his voice all but disappearing into a nasally tone that comes out when he gets excited. He tells Lance about his first Double-Double when he moved to Arizona for the Garrison. 

 

Lance watches as his hands---unusually bare---throw out a few tight motions to punctuate his words. Keith’s fingernails are a little long. _ He doesn’t bite them like he used to, _ Lance realizes, heart kicking in his chest. Keith’s anecdote has devolved into a story about him sneaking out sophomore year to get fast food after exam week. He grins as he relates almost getting caught---his one crooked tooth snagging his bottom lip---and Lance’s breath hitches too.  _ Keith is happy.  _

 

This is how Keith looks when he’s relaxed. This is Keith without his walls up. This is Keith being friends with Lance. 

 

Keith rises to his feet, brushes some non-existent dirt off his ass. “C’mon, let’s head back.” He extends a hand, offering to help Lance up. 

 

Lance takes it, 

 

“You missed it, but the employees at the souvenir shop found out we were Voltron and gave us a bunch of free shit.” Keith motions to his tee shirt. “Hunk grabbed a couple extras so you could have one too.” 

 

“Keith. That shirt is lame as hell.” Lance tells him. 

 

“Shiro said it looked cool.” Keith says.

 

“Yeah, well.” Lance tries to look pained. It’s difficult to pull off, considering Keith still hasn’t let go of his hand and the butterflies in his stomach are making him all giddy, “Shiro also thinks it’s okay to wear socks with sandals.” 

 

At that, Keith tosses his head back and laughs---a real laugh, a little raspy, but deep from his chest, his eyes scrunched up, mouth open so wide that Lance can see a metal filling in one of his molars. 

 

He slides his free hand through his hair, lifting half of his bangs off his forehead, as he gasps out, “He does! He’s wearing them right now actually!” 

 

The laugh is contagious. Lance giggles, not about Shiro’s socks exactly, but because his heart is somehow both light and yet also full-to-bursting. And so, they’re both just standing there, laughing. Keith is pulling him slightly closer through their entwined fingers, close enough that he stumbles just a little bit, knocking their shoulders together. 

 

Kraft must feel it too--- she bounds around them, playful and happy. 

 

“So no to the shirt,” Keith summarizes. “But yes to coming back down with me and not moping around by yourself anymore. I can live with that.” His eyes are warm---their color melting into mulberry-dark as he studies Lance’s expression with unconcealed tenderness. 

 

Lance squawks out a protest---he was  _ not _ moping---but it gets lost in his throat as Keith squeezes his hand. 

 

Lance looks up at him. (Because even though he won’t admit it, Keith  _ is _ taller than him now. Just a smidge.) 

 

Keith tugs him in just so, leaning over just right, to catch Lance’s mouth in a kiss. It’s light. Just a quick press of plush lips against his, and then Lance is left standing there, stunned. 

 

“Wha---Keith--you!” Lance sputters, incoherent. “I wasn’t ready!” 

 

“Hmm?” Keith feigns innocence, the color high on his cheeks the only indication that he might be nervous as well. “You weren’t ready? That’s weird...I’ve been thinking about doing that for awhile.” 

 

He smirks as Lance’s eyes widen even further. “Keith!” 

Keith drops Lance’s hand, running forward a bit. He slots a couple fingers in his mouth, whistling sharply. Kraft bounds up next to him, looking at Lance expectantly from Keith’s side. 

 

“They’re waiting for us,” he tells Lance. “Let’s go.” 

 

Lance follows him, never content to be one step behind Keith. “You can’t just---” 

 

“I did.” 

 

Lance shakes his head, arguing with Keith the whole way back to the others. Keith, infuriatingly, doesn’t seem to mind. 

 

***

**Author's Note:**

> I’m actually more of a cat person. No offense. LOL find me @jacqulinetan on twitter for pictures of said cats and rabid voltron retweets 
> 
> Ruby Falls is, of course, a real place: http://www.rubyfalls.com/ (I cannot attest to any space wolf sightings that you may or may not encounter there) 
> 
> (small voice) I kinda wanna make this a road trip series about their relationship progressing...that might get a little more heated. Thoughts?


End file.
